


And his vlog got taken down for copyrights

by oshietae



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oshietae/pseuds/oshietae
Summary: That seungseok fic wherein they pretend to be in a relationship so they'd get a reduction on a trip to Paris for Valentine's day
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 133





	And his vlog got taken down for copyrights

**Author's Note:**

> i miss seungseok thats all  
> also i wrote this bc a friend gave me the idea so shout out to julie  
> also (2.0) i proofread but not well enough apparently so lets say i didnt proofread

“Yohan. Look. Please, just look. It’s 50% off. Fifty percent. Fif-ty! Half of the price.”

Yohan says nothing, only narrowing his eyes and moving further from the paper. “Hyung, I can’t read that close.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Wooseok whines, stumping of impatience with his feet. “Can’t you see the big ‘50% off!’ written?”

“No, no I can’t.”

Wooseok lets his arms down in defeat. He only wants to benefit from the offer, he’s not asking for too much, is he?

“Why do you look so sad?”

He glares at Yohan, frowning to show his discontent. “Because I wanna live a romantic week-end at Paris for half its original price yet none of my friend wants to go with me. You don’t have to kiss me or whatever, you’re not even my type.”

Yohan scoffs, a hand on his chest, as if Wooseok’s words hurt him. “Ouch. I’m everyone’s type, first of all. Secondly, I just don’t have time this week-end, otherwise I’d to go to Paris with you.” He cups his friend’s cheeks, making Wooseok’s lips pucker out a bit too much. “Don’t be sad, you can still ask the others.”

“But who? Seungwoo said he’s busy too, and Hangyul – no, I don’t want Hangyul he’d get us fired from the excursions.” Wooseok looks down, discouraged. “And Junho’s mom said he has an upcoming test.”

“What about Seungyeon hyung?”

Wooseok peers up. “Seungyeon? Doesn’t he have a photoshoot?”

“He did but it got postponed.”

“Really?”

Yohan nods, causing Wooseok to break from his hold and excitingly kick his feet in the air – like a child would do.

“Hyung, are you that happy?”

Wooseok brandishes the leaflet over his head. “Paris, Yohan. Paris. With champagne and dinners in luxurious restaurants. The city of fashion, with five stars hotels and room service and excursions at our choice and-“

“I think I got the idea.”

Wooseok snaps his fingers. “And with Seungyeon. Perfect. He will probably be only interested in taking pics, so I will even have pics- oh my god, I hope he agrees.”

Yohan gives him a genuine smile, lifting his closed fist. “Yeah, you go hyung. If he doesn’t agree, just beg him until he feels guilty.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“No don’t do that, it was a joke.”

  


***

  


Wooseok checks the clock. It’s 1 a.m. and Seungyeon is still not home. Yet, it’s written black on white on their “Bros/Hoes/Hangyuls Squad living in his moms apartment to help him with the rent/Roomates Code” that in week days the limit is 1 a.m. because after that hour the water running in the shower makes too much noise. Seungyeon seems to never listen to any of the rules but he has never been lectured, everyone being too soft for him. Also, he doesn’t take showers.

Wooseok shoves the scoop of vanilla ice cream in his mouth, not even keeping up with the episode he put on anymore. If he falls asleep before he sees Seungyeon he will probably have an entire weekend to re-watch that drama again.

“Wooseok?”

The voice startles him, making him drop his spoon. Seungyeon is at the door, untying his shoes, and he almost falls on his face. Wooseok gets up to help him, sighing as he sees that his friend is tipsy. Maybe if he didn’t have that much friends he could enjoy a lonely sober night on a couch, eating ice cream and crying over Kim JoJo as Wooseok does.

“I’m okay.” Seungyeon laughs and he ruffles Wooseok’s hair, letting him tug him to his room. “What were you watching?”

“Porn.”

“Oh. Without me?”

Wooseok pats him on the back. “I’m sorry. Next time?”

Seungyeon waves his hand, and he is actually more than tipsy, he’s really drunk. “It’s fine, I forgive you.” He puts his pointer finger on his cheek. “If you give me a kiss.”

Wooseok lets go of him once he’s seated on his bed, wondering how he could get to the topic. Which is : ‘hey, wanna go to a romantic week-end in fucking Europe with me? It’s 50% off! Sales! Yay?’ He scratches his throat, oddly feeling way too nervous.

“Seungyeon, tomorrow before going out could you wait for me to wake up? I’ll have something to ask you.”

Seungyeon tilts his head. “Why not now?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“You asked for a kiss.”

“Yes, I’m still waiting.”

Wooseok takes a deep breath, and he’s so tired that, for a moment, giving up is tempting. He kisses Seungyeon on the cheek, not biting him like he did last time – not because he doesn’t want to but because Seungyeon started to cry and Wooseok had to apologize.

“What’s your question? I’ll regret it tomorrow, in the worst case.”

Wooseok takes the leaflet out of his pants pocket, unfolding it, even though he knows Seungyeon won’t read. “Would you like to come with me for a week-end at Paris? It’s half its original price, and I need another person because it’s a romantic trip. Or whatever.”

Seungyeon squints at the paper and Wooseok feels his heartbeat so loud in his ears – this is his last chance, he doesn’t know anyone else he could ask. At least anyone who is legal.

“Isn’t this Valentines day this week-end?”

Wooseok nods, crossing his fingers at this point. “You have something planned?”

“No.” Seungyeon gives him a bright grin. “But now I do. I’ll come with you.”

  


***

  


“Ok, but... are you sure about this? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything like that.”

Seungyeon stops. His flight ticket is two centimetres away from the scanner. He turns to Wooseok.

“What?”

“You know,” Wooseok continues, not looking directly at him, “I don’t want you to come if you don’t feel like it.”

“And you’re asking me that right now? Not even before entering the airport but right now? What if I say no?”

Wooseok pouts, tugging at the end of his sleeves, as if Seungyeon’s intense gaze – because of his disbelief – is making him wanting the ground to swallow him. “You didn’t scan yet, you can still change your mind. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Cho Seungyeon.”

Seungyeon sighs, harshly pushing the ticket into the machine.

They wander for a while in the corridors – surely one of them completely lost and pretending to follow the other around – until the boarding sign appears. And after approximately six stops in souvenirs shops, because Wooseok wanted to spray free perfume all over his clothes.

“I do wanna come to Paris. It’s been a while since the last attack there we should enjoy before it comes again.” Seungyeon says, once they’re in the waiting room. He’s watching the planes outside, clapping every time once of them lands. “So I don’t feel forced, don’t worry.”

Wooseok looks up from his phone, his eyebrows knitted. “What attack?”

“That huge wave that demolished the city. You didn’t hear of it? It was recently.”

A glint of confusion crosses Wooseok’s eyes. “What? Where did you hear that? On the news?”

“No.” Seungyeon answers, with something close to mischief. “Miraculous Ladybug. Didn’t we watch that last season together? What a bad memory you have.”

Wooseok raises his fist and Seungyeon lets a laughter out, shrinking on his seat. Wooseok puts his earphones, his hoodie’s cap on, and turns his back to Seungyeon. Seungyeon who is still laughing at his own joke, finding it a bit too hilarious. When he becomes calmer, he starts nudging a scowling Wooseok to make him talk – and continues all the way to the airplane, even after they’re seated, but this time poking his cheeks in addition. Wooseok doesn’t yield, only silently side eyeing his friend or borderline ignoring him to look by the window. At some point he hears a clicking noise coming from his side, as if a camera has been turned on, and he finally brings his focus to Seungyeon.

“Kim Wooseok, say ‘hi’.”

Kim Wooseok doesn’t say ‘hi’. He shows his middle fingers instead.

“That’s how Scorpios say ‘hi’,” Seungyeon says, zooming on his friend’s face, “and today we’re here with a really grumpy old Scorpio. Sir, we would like to know your expectations for this trip awaiting for us.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Oh my god, the grumpy cat answered me!” Seungyeon turns the camera to film himself. “We’re making big progress here, people.”

“Shut up.”

“Holy shit, we’re having a conversation! Perhaps now you’d like to answer our questions? Ok, I’ll ask the first one: what do you wish to visit the most in Paris?”

He’s back at Wooseok again, his fluffy black hair peeking from behind the lens. Wooseok scrunches his nose at the adorable sight, regretting to be so weak when it comes to Seungyeon. He puts the window’s lid down to not stand in front of the light.

“It’s not a place to visit, I wanna experience something.” Seungyeon motions him to go on when he pauses to think of his next words. “I’ve seen on a video that on rainy days, there’s this pyramid in the Louvre that is there as a ceiling, and if you’re inside, you can see the rain falling.”

“So you want it to rain?”

“Yes, but not for long. So it doesn’t make us change our plans but just enough so we could try that.”

“We do have glass ceilings in Korea, isn’t it the exact same? If you want, we can try in the hotel room to find a piece of glass and I’ll pour water on-“

“Seungyeon.”

“-well, that’s a really nice wish, Mr.Kim.” Seungyeon gives him his fakest smile, although Wooseok only imagines it. “Anything else?”

Wooseok immediately nods. “Yes. River shuttle. On the Seine. Also, there’s this thing I can’t wait for.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t wait to play rock paper scissors with Cho Seungyeon for the king size bed and wins over him. So he’d sleep on the couch for our three nights. While I bury myself in feathered blankets and choke under a hundred of pillows.”

Seungyeon lowers the camera, glaring at Wooseok. He makes a ‘hmph’ of indignation before finishing his interview with a dry “thank you for your time” and shutting it off.

Wooseok simply smiles and brings his knees to his chest, getting ready for his time to nap. His eyes haven’t been closed for even a few minutes that he hears his friend mumbling to himself.

“We will share fairly. With that height of yours, a couch can feel like a king size bed.”

  


***

  


Wooseok stretches his heavy arms, feeling like the entirety of his limbs are about to fall off. He flops down on the couch, his face getting that full contact with a leather cushion. He can’t breathe this way but it doesn’t matter. He just wants sleep. Even if he has been sleeping since the plane took off, including the bus ride from the airport to the hotel. And including those two times Seungyeon had to practically carry him to go from a transport to another. Still, he’s sleepy.

“Wooseok, take your shoes off at least.”

He doesn’t reply, his mouth being crushed against the couch, but he begins to remove his boots only using his feet. And he soon fails.

“Kim Wooseok.” Seungyeon walks around their luggage that he was unpacking to stand in front of his tired friend. “I know you’re not expecting this but I read the program. We have 2 hours before dinner tonight so you have enough time to take a nap before then. Put new clothes on to cool down.”

Wooseok lets out a whine, expressing clearly how low his motivation is.

“Yeah, okay.” Seungyeon sighs. He takes a few steps back and Wooseok thinks he’s gone back to his occupation, until he feels two hands grabbing him by his waist. “Sit.”

He doesn’t have time to yelp that he’s instantly brought back on his ass, facing a very pleased Seungyeon. His face hurts, that cushion wasn’t comfortable.

“You have marks on your face.”

“Cho Seungyeon.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever do that again. I almost threw up on you.”

Seungyeon lets go of him to pat his hair, carefully. His lips are pressed together, as if in deep thoughts, and he seems to forget what he’s doing because he pats for maybe a bit too long. Wooseok doesn’t interrupt him though, fully enjoying the soothing motion on his head. Is that why his friends keep comparing him to a cat? Do cats too feel something tickling them in their throats every time their human pet them? Wooseok chuckles. Seungyeon wouldn’t like to be his human, he’d trade him for a dog.

“Alright.” Seungyeon speaks up after a while, and Wooseok opens his eyes – he didn’t know he closed in the first place. “I’ll finish unpacking and you go take a shower first.”

“Don’t unpack too much, we’re staying only a couple of nights.”

Seungyeon moves aside to point at his luggage. Wooseok gets up immediately to pick his clothes, not even finishing his conversation with him. Well of course, he should’ve known that a third of Seungyeon’s bag would be cups of ramen and homemade kimchi. Now that mini-bar fridge is going to smell.

“Make yourself pretty for me.” Seungyeon yells once Wooseok closes the bathroom’s door. “I pay a lot of attention to first dates.”

  


***

  


Wooseok has been rubbing his face for the past ten minutes, but there’s no way the large towel’s print is going to disappear. That’s why his mother always nagged him when he slept using rolled towels as pillows. Because she knew one day he’d be at a five stars restaurant in Paris after taking a nap on a towel-pillow, and he’d be regretting his rebel young days.

“This way, please.”

Wooseok looks up at the waiter, surprised he didn’t notice him coming over. He must’ve looked stupid, scratching his cheek like that and making it redder.

Seungyeon grabs Wooseok’s hand when the latter doesn’t react, quickly following behind the man leading them to their table – that none of them reserved. Wooseok sits by the window, as always. But as if something is holding onto him this time, he can only sit on the edge of the chair.

He wants to complain about it, already frowning and gaping for air, but he restrains himself just in time, the waiter in the middle of a conversation with Seungyeon. The communication goes on pretty smoothly, despite the two of them having thick accent speaking in English, and Wooseok finds himself once again glad that Seungyeon is the one to accompany him.

Wooseok glimpses behind the curtains at the bright avenues outside, discreetly. People are walking fast, some of them close to run, their chins dug in the chests against the cold wind, and none of them ever lessening their speed to appreciate the colourful collections displayed by the many luxurious brands, nor the singular architecture – particular of Haussmann. They must be used to it. After some time, everything can lose its magic. There’s a street show going on at the entrance of their restaurant, with speakers the size of flat screen TVs, and judging from the way the passers-by bop their heads to the sound, the music inside the restaurant is an utter opposite. If Wooseok didn’t have enough willpower to fully enjoy the money he invested on this trip, he would’ve left the room because of that local band playing to the clients, propped on that cheap wooden stage. He shuts the curtain and takes a look at them. The woman singing can barely be heard over the chatters.

Letting his eyes wander around more, it somehow hits him why he can’t sit correctly. Seungyeon’s hand is still wrapped around his, his fingers delicately tracing circles on his knuckles. Wooseok doesn’t let himself think because he’s already bringing his chair closer, so he wouldn’t break their hold, and he waits for the other to be done. That warm sensation, that took place just a while ago in his chest, keeps growing at the sight surrounding them. Never in years he would’ve imagined to be here. It feels completely new, with the foreign language and fragrances floating around, but at the same time so familiar, as if he has met the people in the room before. Although, he did meet some of them once – is that why Seungyeon seems familiar?

“Wooseok. What’s funny?”

Seungyeon hands him over the menu card, and Wooseok figures the waiter left while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Nothing.” He waves his free hand, the other still busy being held. “What were you talking about?”

“I asked for the places we could visit here. Also bars.”

Wooseok chuckles. “The second part sounds more like you.” He grabs the card, struggling to open it with his left hand. Seungyeon doesn’t witness the pathetic scene of Wooseok getting jabbed by the laminated menu, looking at his phone instead. “Seungyeon, I’m gonna take my hand back.”

He lets go, laughing at Seungyeon’s little ‘ah!’, and can now focus on food. His palm feels cold all of a sudden, but he ignores it, flipping through pages of dishes he has never heard of before.

Seungyeon drops his card on the table, before he starts to unbutton his shirt’s sleeves. It’s not a tight shirt, though. The light cloth of the shirt fits perfectly Seungyeon, outlining his nice proportions, and Wooseok doesn’t regret the hour he spent convincing him to take some ‘chic’ outfits.

“You already chose what you want to eat?” Wooseok asks.

“No. But I know its price and I don’t want it. Just take what you want and we’ll share, I refuse to ruin myself for some steak.”

“You’re the one who wanted this place.”

“But at what cost, Wooseok?” He agitates the card, dramatically shaking his head. “What the fuck is wrong with Parisians?”

Wooseok slides his own menu up his face, hiding his snickering from the other. Should he tell him? That would ruin the fun, unfortunately. On the other hand, he wouldn’t like Seungyeon to play him like he intends to. He keeps his eyes on that ‘Filet d’agneau et sa crème poivrée’, pretending that he is pondering hard on his choice – he frankly doesn’t understand a single word, even the English translations are miserable.

“Seungyeon.” Wooseok has decided that the joke would be too cruel, not enough comical to the point of letting his friend starve. “You can pick anything you want from this restaurant. It’s included in our trip. Remember? Breakfast and dinner? Only lunches are supplements.” Seungyeon’s jaw slowly drops, as if he has come to a huge realization. “So knock yourself out. I’m gonna take that ‘filet’ thing.”

  


  


The vapour rising from Seungyeon’s dish is too thick, twirling into bizarre shapes in between their faces. Yet, the fact that the food is burning doesn’t stop Seungyeon from stuffing his mouth, as he exhales like a dragon each time.

He points at his nostrils. “I’m a train.”

Wooseok nods, a slight smile on his lips. All that money wasted for that dumbass to not even properly taste the food.

“You look good, by the way.”

Wooseok quirks an eyebrow. “Say that again?”

“Are you deaf?” Seungyeon wipes the corners of his mouth, with one of those expensive tissues that have initials carved on them. “I said you look good. I also said I pay attention to first times and you did make yourself pretty for me, I’m satisfied.”

He leans back, an arm thrown over the chair back and a glass of wine in his hand, and for a split second Wooseok feels invisible spikes piercing through his guts at the way Seungyeon is gazing at him. His hold grows tighter around the cutlers in his hands, and he wonders if he could send that knife he’s using into Seungyeon’s eyes to make him look away. He drops them down, the clinking noise against his plate loudly off key with the ballad currently being played, and he inhales.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Seungyeon gives him a playful smirk. “Like what?” He puts the glass down too, and crosses his arms on his chest. “I’m complimenting you, that’s it.”

“Alright. Thanks. It’s not the best I’ve looked, though.”

Seungyeon shrugs. “No I like it. You should wear shirts more often.”

He should too. Shirts look good on anybody anyway, but still, they look especially good on Seungyeon. Maybe it’s Seungyeon who looks good on anything. Wooseok was thinking too much.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.” And he calls the waiter for the desserts, ignoring that sweet beam growing on Seungyeon’s face.

  


***

  


“The what?”

Seungyeon’s cheeks are tainted a light shade of pink, his eyes fighting hard to blink open.

Wooseok breathes calmly, internally giving himself a speech about the different reasons he shouldn’t kill Seungyeon on the spot. The number one being: Seungyeon has the key to their room.

“The key.” Wooseok whispers. He has been lowering his voice more and more as the time ticks away, because he refuses to receive a noise complain on their first night abroad. Seungyeon is melting against the walls of the corridor, struggling to keep his balance. “Cho Seungyeon. Focus. Where did you put the key?”

“Key? Who even gives keys nowadays, why isn’t it a card like in every hotel?” His words are sloppy, but he doesn’t seem aware of that. “Ah, don’t get mad.”

“I’m not getting mad.” Wooseok lies – he’s not, he’s getting annoyed that’s all. Not mad. Yet. “Why did you drink that much? I thought you don’t like wine.”

“I don’t. But it was free.”

“Alright. Search in your back pocket.”

Seungyeon frowns, as he pushes himself away from the wall, and dangerously flinches before Wooseok secures his arms around him.

“Ah!” Seungyeon exclaims. He brings Wooseok closer to his chest and rests his chin on the other’s shoulder. “Yes, a hug is nice.”

Wooseok doesn’t reject it, too worn-out right now. “No. No, did you look in your back pocket? If you do, I won’t break the hug.”

“Ok, ok. I’m looking.” As soon as his hand reaches it, he immediately pulls out a key. “Oh? Where did that come from?”

Wooseok doesn’t have the strength to give him an explanation – not even to make fun of his stupidity. He snatches it and rushes to enter the room, before coming out a few seconds later to drag Seungyeon who didn’t follow.

“Do you wanna sleep on the carpet? The couch is too fancy for you?”

“I wasn’t finished hugging.” Seungyeon pouts. “Why did you break it?”

Wooseok makes him sit on the bed, not without having to shoo away his prying fingers trying to catch his shirt. Seungyeon’s pout deepens, his eyes turning bigger like puppy eyes, and he’s whining out loud for Wooseok to accept his cuddling invitation. But cuddling is the last thing on Wooseok’s mind. He succeeds in escaping from Seungyeon’s trapping arms and heads to the bathroom. He decides to change after having taken care of Seungyeon first, so he’s quickly back with a toiletry case. He starts by Seungyeon’s eyelids, gently rubbing the wet cotton on the subtle black eye shadow, two fingers holding his face in place. The eyeliner comes off soon, but Wooseok continues to rub, not focused on just the eyes anymore.

Seungyeon has pretty features. Pretty eyes, pretty nose, pretty lips, pretty smile, pretty teeth. Pretty hair – this time, at least. He is, without a doubt, the prettiest person Wooseok has ever seen. And that prettiest person begins to hum, a pleased smile tugging at his lips, and Wooseok can’t help but smile too. He tosses the used cotton pad in the trash, stepping away as Seungyeon opens his eyes.

“Did you put something on your lips?”

Seungyeon shakes his head.

“Foundation?”

He shakes again.

“Do you want me to brush your teeth?”

Seungyeon hesitates. The memory of Wooseok almost piercing through his gum last time he suggested must’ve crossed his mind, because he shakes his head another time.

“I’m done then.” Wooseok claps his hands together. “I’ll go change now. You too, don’t sleep with that.”

Seungyeon glances down at his shirt and skinny pants, a frown instantly appearing.

“I’m not gonna take that off for you.” Wooseok warns, already walking toward the bathroom. “If it wasn’t a shirt, maybe, but this is the easiest. Just undo the buttons.” And he shows on himself, opening his shirt down until the second button. “See?”

Seungyeon clumsily imitates, looking at Wooseok for his approval – that he’s given. The latter waits for a while, because he feels that Seungyeon isn’t done speaking up.

And it’s not until the shirt is entirely opened that Seungyeon slurs. “Wooseok.”

Wooseok tries to suppress his smile, already knowing what his friend is going to say. “Yes?”

“Give me a kiss.” And he points at his cheek.

Wooseok complies, happy to have put on some sticky lip gloss earlier, and he leaves a flagrant trace where his lips smack.

“I’m going to change now. You can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Seungyeon’s eyes widen. “No! It’s gonna be cold! You can sleep with me, look, this is a big bed.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“No, no. It’s really big – it’s huge. You can fit there, there’s enough space.”

“Seungyeon, I don’t want to sleep with you. You always shove your cold feet near me. And you snore. And that couch is indeed my size, it’s like a king size bed, you were right.”

Seungyeon’s head hangs low, as if Wooseok is scolding him, but he doesn’t argue more, only nodding as his friend walks away.

“Don’t forget to take off your pants.” Wooseok turns off the lights, disappearing into the bathroom. “Good night.”

  


***

  


Wooseok has been up for two hours. He sorted their clothes into the shared closet, updated the ChoKimKimHanLee group chat, aligned the skincare and makeup products according to their package’s colour, folded the blanket he used for the night after debating on if that was something he should do or leave to the room service, and finished by dressing up and reading the different formulas for breakfasts. He’s starting to get bored. It’s not like he had another choice, he had to wake up before Seungyeon does. If his friend found him on the couch he would’ve thrown a tantrum and Wooseok is still not fond of getting a noise complain.

His phone lights up. It’s 9 a.m. Wooseok jumps on his feet, a bit too excited this early in the morning. He runs to the balcony window, pulling open the curtain, and squints his eyes as the blinding sunrays assault his pupils. He can’t complain about this, he’s the one who insisted on getting a room on the highest floor so he’d be able to see sunrises.

A growl comes from the bed. Wooseok climbs on it, crawling to what looks like the corpse of his friend.

“Seungyeon. Wake up.”

Seungyeon doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t even groan as Wooseok was expecting, he stays still. In a mysterious way, he manages to resemble a dead body while having such a peaceful face, his traits more relaxed than ever.

Wooseok chews on his bottom lip. Watching Seungyeon sleep sounds more appealing than a three hundred meters of metal – he doesn’t get the hype, truthfully. Except he can do that back in their dorm in Seoul, South Korea, while that chunk of iron is staying in Paris, France.

Wooseok shakes Seungyeon – with so much remorse, he’d never disturb his rest in other circumstances. “Seungyeon, wake up! Paris. Money. Money. Money. Money. Money. Money. Money. Food? No, money. Money. Money. Mo- oh, hi. Hi, princess.”

Said princess painfully opens his eyes, and the moment he seems lost for doesn’t last long, as he gives a lazy smile to Wooseok the second he recognizes him.

“I’m princess?” His speech comes out garbled, but Wooseok finds it endearing, strangely.

“Yes. I will wait for Your Majesty in the dinner hall. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. And before 9:30, the buffet is emptied around 45.”

  


  


At 9:29 Seungyeon is sprinting in the direction of the pancakes and melted chocolate first. He doesn’t greet Wooseok decently, the urge to pile up all the pieces of bakery on his tray being more important, obviously. He doesn’t masticate during the first round, only filling up his starving stomach with sugar, chugging each bite down with a large sip of cold Americano. It’s until he’s at the third round that the food actually gets savored. He flashes a gleeful grin to Wooseok who has been silently observing him, and Wooseok gives one back. He finished eating a long time ago, probably when Seungyeon was gone to serve himself a second time. But Wooseok doesn’t mind, he’s thankful for having someone with such energy by his side. He should plan more trips with Seungyeon, nothing can be ever tiresome in his presence.

Seungyeon hiccups, firmly slapping his chest. “I think I’m doing a gluten overdose.”

  


***

  


_Click_.

Wooseok turns around. Seungyeon sighs, mumbling a ‘this one is blurry’ to himself, before he points the camera at Wooseok again.

“Eh.” Wooseok says, crossing his arms on his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re taking pictures? Of course it will be blurry, since I’m moving.”

Seungyeon vaguely waves his hand at him, concentrated on adjusting the lenses. “It’s so I’d catch you on the moment. It’s what makes the beauty of memories, you know. There’s no point if you pose for it.”

“Beauty of memories is blurriness?”

“No, it’s you.” Seungyeon’s sticks out his tongue, not even sparing a glance to Wooseok who briefly avoids to yelp out loud, his face heating up. “Even blurry, your memory is beautiful.”

Wooseok lets out an awkward giggle, his eyes searching for a shovel to dig a hole and bury himself there.

“Thanks?”

Seungyeon finally makes eye contact with him. “Oh. By ‘you’ I meant everyone.”

“Alright, shut up.”

Seungyeon’s energy must come from teasing Wooseok all the damn time – that’s how he regenerates his bubbly powers. His face lights up at the embarrassed expression painted on Wooseok’s features.

“Ah, but Wooseok is prettier than everyone. His memories are so-“ and he trails off, “-so unique.”

Wooseok leaves him, joining their tourists group, as he pretends to not hear how Seungyeon erupts into a laughter and calls after him to wait.

  


  


On the list of things Wooseok will rant about to his friends (to Junho, maybe Junho’s friend Eunsang) once he’s back to Korea: not the Eiffel Tower. The wait was too long, not worth it. The elevators crowded, not enough people wearing deodorants. They had to take the stairs. Two floors – which is 647 steps and approximately 115 meters away from the ground. Then once at the top – 310 meters away from the ground – Seungyeon said “look at the people, they’re dots!” and Wooseok said “I don’t have my glasses.” He almost lost his scarf forever, that third floor structured like shit, and wind gushing from every way. Even Seungyeon said the only thing he enjoyed was the view while climbing the stairs. The view being Wooseok’s ass.

Wooseok is typing furiously on his notes, in a file saved as ‘Eiffel from the social scale’. This excursion is getting a bad review. He peers up for a pause, his gaze meeting Seungyeon’s slender frame supporting itself on the deck’s barricade, as their group waits for the river shuttle. Seungyeon is dressed casually today, a simple black hoodie and a pair of those baggy pants he collects. The shades he put on despite the need slid down to the tip of his nose, but he doesn’t bother fixing it. His camera is recklessly thrown on his shoulder, dangling against his ribs, and Wooseok gets his previous words. He mindlessly raises his phone, capturing the sight in his gallery, and, the memory does look more beautiful when caught off guard.

“Wooseok.”

He jolts at the mention of his name, resulting in the action of sneakily taking a picture of his friend being even more odd.

Seungyeon extends his arm. “The shuttle is here, come on.”

  


***

  


“How about, as a romantic activity, I drown you into the Seine.”

Seungyeon chokes. He spits half what’s inside his mouth into his glass, his eyes exorbitantly open as he gives his torso dramatic taps. Wooseok is pretty proud of his acting. It’s not what he said, it’s how he said it. How the words came out so seductively, his chin resting on his palm and a sweet smile spread. A few couples close send them concerned looks, but Wooseok doubts they’re worrying about Seungyeon, most of them certainly just want him to be quiet.

Seungyeon regains his composure. “I don’t think they’ll let you do that.”

“Just watch me.”

Seungyeon runs a hand in his hair, resuming to what he’s been doing before being interrupted: eating. And Wooseok has to force himself not to slam his friend’s head onto those spaghetti – why does Seungyeon move on so smoothly whatever Wooseok says? He could yell the most obscene words in the middle of a crowd and Seungyeon would only frown at him. Although, Wooseok would never dare do that, he has a public image he’d like to keep as clean as possible.

“You’re not eating?” Seungyeon asks.

“I told you how I wanted to eat.”

“No. We’re not gonna do like Lady and the Tramp. That’s gross, I refuse.”

Wooseok raises his hands, designating the people near them. “But everyone is doing ‘couple’ stuff. Look, that one is practically proposing to his- oh my god, I think he’s proposing.”

Seungyeon turns around to see, just as the voice translating their guide’s indications resonates in their in-ears.

“Oh!” The guide squeals, and she points at the two with the end of her micro. “It looks like someone is getting a proposal!”

The woman at the center of the attention stares at the ring, her soon-fiancé expectantly shaking on his knee. Wooseok isn’t much interested in the scene, but everyone else seems so absorbed by it, hanging at her lips, waiting for her response. She slowly nods, after all that build up suspense, and cheers explode from every side of the terrace.

“A newly engaged cuties!” The guide looks way too happy for something not involving her. “It’s exactly what we needed to lit the mood of this trip! Ah, while we’re here, at your right you can see Notre-Dame. She’s a bit burned but she’s still receiving a lot of love. If you have the time, go visit her tomorrow!”

Wooseok grimaces, but immediately drops the attitude when Seungyeon motions him to shush.

“You’re being rude.” Seungyeon reprimands him, and Wooseok knows deep down he’s feeling the same as him, only Wooseok expresses it for both of them.

“I hope you’re all enjoying your meal.” The guide adds, her blabbering never ending. “Sharing a plate with your lover is a first step in a comfortable relationship. Matching the others tastes, standing their eating habits... it’s not always easy.”

Seungyeon chuckles, hiding behind his hands. The speech sounds ridiculous at some time. Thank god she didn’t see when Seungyeon was feeding Wooseok a bit earlier, or she would’ve made the whole group witness.

“Are you having fun?

Wooseok lifts his eyebrows at the question.

“Why?” He asks back and Seungyeon gives a half shrug. “Yeah, I am. This was top on my list of activities to do. I thought I’d get seasick by eating on a boat. But I’m just fine. Maybe it’s because this is a river and not a sea. And it’s a river shuttle not a boat.” Seungyeon listens to him, intensely as he always does. So Wooseok rambles, as he always does. “Also, I found my glasses under the extra sweater I brought. Like, at the bottom of the bag. That’s too bad, though, I wouldn’t have give such a lame review to the Eiffel Tower if the view was phenomenal. Anyway, yes I’m having fun. But I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

The guide speaks up one more time, cutting off the explanation Wooseok was about to give.

“The desserts. The desserts are here!” She claps her hands – alone. “Our photographer, Eric- ah, sorry? Aymeric? Ah, yes Aymeric. Yes, him. He’s gonna come to each one of you to take your picture and that will be send to you later. You don’t have to act a special way, we just want to help you never forget this moment you shared with your loved one!”

She applauds herself, forgotten by everyone who’s hasting to pick a concept for their picture before Eric-ah-Aymeric come to them. That’s when Wooseok's nervousness rockets. And when it happens, nothing seems logical to him anymore.

“What’s wrong?”

Seungyeon’s forehead is marred with concern. It doesn’t suit him, Wooseok thinks.

“I’ve been wondering. What can happen if they find out we’re not dating? Is it considered as scamming? Everyone has been behaving like real couples and until now no one really paid attention to us, but aren’t we standing out too much?”

Seungyeon’s shoulders slouch, his face losing a good half of its cheerfulness. “I don’t think what we do in our relationship should matter to them.”

“But-“ Wooseok crashes his pointer finger against the table. “What if it does? It’s reserved to couples, it’s Valentine’s day. Perhaps we took a real couple’s place and it’s seen as a scam. Not even that, what if they do nothing but just expose us. And we’d get humiliated in front of everyone because we faked this?”

“You’re saying all this out loud, what if someone hears you?”

At the sarcastic tone, Wooseok gets that Seungyeon isn’t taking the problem seriously. And that must be what he should do too, but he’s deep into his paranoia.

“No, she’s not Korean. No one is here, I observed them.”

“Creepy.”

“Listen. That wasn’t a good idea after all. We can become the black sheep in the next following minutes.”

“Don’t you think we can become that because we’re two Asian men dating?”

“No!”

Wooseok slams his hands against his face. That’s what he’s been nervous about from the beginning – being busted. He didn’t plan it to be this soon. The flash of the camera hits him through his shut eyes, the nearest couple being photographed. The worst part is the fact that he’s freaking out this much can only look fishy. He should sit straight, be nonchalant, because just as Seungyeon said, nobody has a word to say. How people deal with their relationship in social gatherings is no one’s business except theirs. But as he apprehended, he can’t stop his brain from showing him a compilation of all the farfetched scenarios that could happen if someone finds out.

Seungyeon’s voice suddenly reaches his ears, closer than it should be.

“Hey, Wooseok.”

Wooseok moves his hands off his face. Seungyeon is leaning over the table separating them, tightly grasping it by both sides. He appears imposing for a while, with his shadow twice his size covering entirely Wooseok, and before he gets to process why Seungyeon decided to stand out of nowhere, his friend approaches him at a sharp speed. In a bat of an eye, Seungyeon’s lips are pressed on his, the astonishment knocking the air out of him. And as fast as it came, their inviting warmth is soon going away.

Wooseok struggles to catch his breath, that pool of heat in his stomach abruptly flooding and sending shivers to the entirety of his body. As if a can has been opened, splattering everything around.

Seungyeon kissed him. Seungyeon, who is sitting back on the opposite chair with an impenetrable expression, kissed him.

And Wooseok isn’t handling it too well. He folds his hands on his lap, internally scolding himself for not snapping out of it but instead staring at how his shaking fingers curl up, dumbfounded. There’s nothing much going inside his mind, just a bunch of his thoughts jumping at each other's throat and resulting in a state of chaos. That Wooseok converts into silence. Absolute silence. He has stopped thinking.

“You’re making this more sus' than you thought it was.”

Seungyeon is talking from very far. From over the fence Wooseok is hidden behind. Yet, as he hears his friend, Wooseok becomes aware of his surroundings again. First, aware of how red he has turned, his cheeks burning. Second, aware of the photographer awkwardly watching him, his camera in his hands. Then, aware of the chocolate lava cake in front of him, he didn’t notice being put there. And lastly, aware of the detached demeanor of Seungyeon – who kissed him, on the lips – and the idea he had.

There are some people curiously observing each couple when their turn comes, and all of them witnessed that kiss. That stolen kiss, to be frank. Wooseok would’ve preferred to have his first kiss with Seungyeon somewhere private, with nobody looking at them.

He tenses, surprised by his own thoughts. He never even thought of kissing Seungyeon before, there’s no situation he would’ve preferred. He should’ve considered the possibility, though, so he wouldn’t be as stunned as he is.

That Eric-Aymeric dude hesitantly speaks up, with a thick French accent. “Can I take your pic now?”

He points at his camera to make the message clear. Wooseok follows his moves, still taken aback to quickly give him an answer.

“Yes.” Seungyeon’s smile can be discerned in his words. “We’re ready. Right, babe?”

  


***

  


Wooseok locked himself up in the restroom. He’s scrolling down his Instagram feed, absently liking every post. He should care about the others queuing outside to get in, but really, he doesn’t give a fuck. For the past hours he’s been feeling light-headed, not having the opportunity to take a break until now.

Alright, he needs to get this straight. He shuts off his phone, straightens on the toilet seat and closes his eyes. Cho Seungyeon indeed kissed him. However, once that crucial instant passed, he didn’t bring it up. Nor did Wooseok – but, shouldn’t it be Seungyeon’s role? Possibly, Seungyeon thought Wooseok had nothing to say, so he didn’t bother him. That’s something he would do. Still, he didn’t even explain why he had to kiss him, even though Wooseok understood by himself. On the other hand, Wooseok didn’t ask why he did it, he acted the same as Seungyeon: as if nothing happened. Not in a bad way, it hasn’t been awkward, it simply continued as if kissing each other was something normal between them. Nothing different from usual. Seungyeon kept filming him at every stop they visited and Wooseok kept answering his ‘interviews’, excited to be part of his vlog.

Nothing seemed wrong. Because nothing was, actually. Seungyeon only kissed him so he would stop worrying, and it worked. It wasn’t even that long, just a small peck, yes, he totally can see friends do that for each others. Didn’t Yohan kiss him one time? It was fine, those kind of thing happens.

Wooseok gets up, satisfied to have sorted the last events. And ignoring that noisy voice in his brain, reminding him that when it happened with Yohan he felt nowhere as thrilled as with Seungyeon.

He flushes the toilet, pretending he was in there for a n°2 and not meditating, and goes out.

The second Seungyeon notices him, he grabs his wrist without a word and starts running, tugging him behind.

“Hey, we shouldn’t be running here!” Wooseok pants, terribly aware of the attention they’re drawing on them. “They’re gonna expel us, you don’t run in museums!”

But Seungyeon keeps sprinting, until they arrive in the main hall, luckily no one catching them – what kind of security is that?

Seungyeon points at the ceiling, loudly inhaling. “It’s raining.”

Wooseok follows his extended arm, his gaze landing on the pyramid of glass. The raindrops music finally hits him, once his heartbeat settles, and his mouth opens wide.

“Oh.” He lets out, lacking adequate vocabulary.

“Isn’t that the one you were talking about? The pyramid inside the Louvre?”

Wooseok nods, smiling from ear to ear. He walks to the center, not taking his eyes off the ceiling, in pure admiration. It’s not that impressive, but the fact that he got the chance to be here as it’s raining. He stays for a while in that position, with his head thrown back – that neck pain is going to be strong – and his mouth agape, until the rain calms down and stops. It didn’t last long, maybe a few minutes. He could’ve missed it, if it wasn’t for Seungyeon. He turns to his friend, about to thank him, but pauses when he sees the camera on him.

“Yeah.” Seungyeon flashes a bright smile. “I got that on tape. I’m such a great dude.”

Wooseok doesn’t deny.

  


***

  


“You pulled it like one second late, I saw it.”

Seungyeon eye sides him, unimpressed. “No, I didn’t, you just saw wrong.”

He lifts a rioting Wooseok from the couch, still wearing that cool attitude that Wooseok has been trying to tear apart for a while.

“Why are you even complaining?” Seungyeon adds, moving around to drop Wooseok on the bed. “I get the couch, you get the bed. Isn’t that what you said?”

“But you didn’t play fair!” Wooseok stresses, lowering his voice in frustration. “You saw my paper and pulled rock. That’s borderline insulting, I can win against you if we play without cheating.”

“Ok, what are you gonna do about it?” Seungyeon puts his hands on his hips. “Fight me because I made myself lose so I’d sleep on the couch? Alright, bring it on.”

Wooseok stands up, without thinking twice, and raises his chin in a threatening way – that is efficient judging on how Seungyeon unconsciously takes a step back. He wouldn’t mind throwing a punch at his friend’s face, Seungyeon should know that. That height difference isn’t enough to protect him from Wooseok.

“Let’s play again.” And without waiting for his agreement, Wooseok rises his fist. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Seungyeon reacts faster then he should have, pulling paper. Wooseok’s scissors turn into a middle finger that he shoves at the other’s face.

“Told you I’d win fairly.” He pats Seungyeon’s shoulder – who doesn’t need comfort, sleeping on the couch being his plan from the beginning. “I’ll let you benefit of your loser’s price now.”

“Flipping me off wasn’t a necessity.”

“Yes, it was. It always is.”

Seungyeon rolls his eyes as he gets cozy under the heavy blanket, covering his head too so nothing is left for the cold. He waves his hand at Wooseok, and the latter hums in response, a bit disappointed in being left alone again. He wishes Seungyeon stays up with him – they could watch a movie. Or talk. Talking is always appeasing when it’s with Seungyeon. But Wooseok doesn’t protest, knowing that the day has been tiring, he should go sleep as well. Both of them were exhausted to the point of not having dinner, still full from those crepes they had in the evening.

Wooseok checks the clock: it’s past midnight. He doesn’t feel like laying down yet. He puts his scarf on and steps out on the balcony, regretting the decision right away, as the freezing wind almost blows him off of the wall. His phone buzzes in his hand, stopping him from cursing out loud. He picks up without looking at it.

“Hyung?”

Wooseok blinks. He knows that voice – of course he does, it’s calling him.

“Junho?”

Junho snorts, and Wooseok wants to tell him to speak louder. It’s not because they’re physically far away that his voice should feel the same way.

“I tried to call you earlier, I guess you were busy.” Junho says and Wooseok can perfectly imagine the smile on his face. “Are you having fun? You better be.”

“Yes, sir. Why are you checking on me first thing in the morning? Are you my mom?”

“I just wanted to know if you’re still alive. And if I won the bet I made with Yohan hyung.”

A very loud ‘don’t tell him that!!’ comes from the phone and Wooseok frowns. A bet? Junho answers with a pathetic ‘I need money, I’m a broke student, hyung!’

“What’s the bet? And why is Yohan at your house at 8a.m.?”

He hears a fumbling noise, followed by furious whispers, before Yohan talks.

“Hi, Woo-“

“I don’t want to talk to you. Give me Junho back.”

“That’s mean.”

“Whatever.”

The fake annoyed tone of Wooseok doesn’t prevent Yohan from lying to Junho, by telling him he’s giving him the phone only because he has better things to do. He doesn’t.

“Junho, what’s the bet?”

“Ah. I said you’d be dating Seungyeon hyung by the end of the trip but hyung doesn’t agree. He said, I quote, ‘they’re too dumb to realize.’ Hyung, I believe in your braincells, please don’t give up on me.”

Wooseok is speechless. Dating Seungyeon? Him?

“Yes?” Junho exclaims. “Yes, you talked out loud in case you’re wondering. Wait, didn’t you ask Seungyeon hyung because you wanted to confess or something?”

“What?” Wooseok starts to feel a slight headache. “No, it was because nobody else was free. Why would I confess?”

There’s few seconds of silence.

“Because you’re in love with him?” Junho sounds so incredulous that Wooseok questions himself if he didn’t miss out on a reveal regarding him. “Hyung?”

“I’m in love with Seungyeon? Since when?”

“I don’t know that, you tell me.”

Wooseok begins to be conscious that his heart is beating faster than usual. His hands are sweaty, something that rarely happens.

“Don’t tell me... you didn’t know?”

“Why do you sound so sure? If I didn’t tell you that why would you be right?” Wooseok snaps back, mainly a way to distract himself from how his brain is finally collecting the pieces and completing the puzzle. “Who said that?”

“It’s obvious. I recognize two people in love when I see them. I watched a lot of dramas. And read books too, I’m not talking from experience.”

“Two?” Wooseok yelps, immediately slapping his mouth. He breathes out. “Seungyeon too?”

“Yes? Wow, really? I’m gonna lose that bet, is that a joke? I thought you had a plan and all.” Junho exaggeratedly sniffs, while Wooseok stirs up the air with his hand to find his balance. He violently sits on the ground, the icy sensation contrasting too well with the heat suffocating him. “Hyung, are you still there?”

Wooseok stammers, unsure. “How do you know he likes me?”

“Ok, now I feel bad for exposing him. I thought you noticed the feeling was mutual. My bad.”

“I didn’t agree on liking him.”

“So you don’t?”

Wooseok takes a sharp breath in to talk back, but nothing comes. The words die on his tongue, the energy to pronounce them out loud missing. The knocking on his temples intensify as the times passes by, and Wooseok can only quit his denial to cool down. To be honest, his life has never been better before Seungyeon entered it. He doesn’t even remember how were his days when he didn’t know about him. Certainly dismal, not worthy to be compared to his current ones.

Junho chuckles. “See?”

“Fine. I won’t argue with that. I still don’t think he likes me, though. What makes you think that?”

“Haha- ask him.”

Wooseok scratches his neck, the confusion that filled him reaching the tip of his fingers. Facing a realization this important wasn’t what he wanted to be doing instead of sleeping. Would he even be able to sleep?

“I won’t do that.”

“I need money, hyung.”

“Not my problem.”

“Alright, blind hyung. No, dense is better. Dense hyung.”

Wooseok whines. “I’m not dense, I just never thought about it.”

That isn’t a lie. He never felt his heart fluttering, his mouth going dry, or butterflies in his stomach at something Seungyeon would do. As for today, he doesn’t think it was similar – he was honestly too lost to notice. The only sensation he has and always had beside Seungyeon is a sensation of peace. No worries, just peace that he doesn’t know he needs until it’s taken away.

Junho’s sigh startles him. “I should go now, I have classes.”

“Ah.” Wooseok doesn’t want to hang up, though. It would mean he’d have to think about this by himself for the rest of the night. “Sure, I need to go sleep too.”

“Why didn’t you pick up earlier?”

“I don’t know. When was it?”

“Around 8p.m. for you.”

Wooseok gets up, his legs going numb. “I was outsi- Hey! Isn’t 8p.m. here 4a.m. for you? Why were you up?”

“I put an alarm so I’d wake up at that time to call you, I wasn’t up until then.”

“Still! Then your mom is gonna blame me for your bad grades again.”

“I’m a perfect student, excuse you? I’m in the middle of my finals right now, don’t wish me bad luck like that.”

“Ah, so you were up at that time on a this particular week? That’s even worse.”

Junho sighs deeply again. “Alright, hyung. I’ll hang up now.”

“Yes, go away.”

“I will. And you go get Seungyeon hyung’s ass-“

Wooseok doesn’t get to hear the end of that stupidity, hanging up. Except eight hours of sleep, he’s getting nothing tonight. He rushes inside, obliging himself to not hesitate until he’s wrapped inside the blanket. The snores coming from the couch signals him that he doesn’t have to check if Seungyeon is awake. Wooseok shuts his eyes. Whatever he needs to think about, he’ll do it after.

  


***

  


Wooseok slams the bottle at Seungyeon’s feet.

“Drink.” He hisses, his eyes narrowed. “We’re not moving until you finish this.”

Seungyeon wrinkles his nose, his mouth twisting into a ridiculous grimace, as if he wants to resist Wooseok’s orders, but the latter only scoffs, far from intimidated.

“Do you want to see our picture as the cover of the French papers because your stupid ass fainted on some stairs?” Wooseok asks, taking the cap off the bottle. “I don’t.”

“I didn’t faint.” Seungyeon claims, but the weakness in his voice succeeds in convincing him otherwise. “Ok, maybe. I’m fine now, I don’t need to drink all of this.”

Wooseok’s gaze doesn’t flinch, staring straight at Seungyeon, maintaining the eye contact until the other gives up, groaning as he accepts the water. Wooseok moves further, releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Apparently, being painfully conscious of his feelings was only making the day harder. Of course Seungyeon had to collapse when Wooseok was trying his best to ignore him. He called ‘Wooseok’, a hand extended to grab the handle of his bag, and next thing, Wooseok saw him fall on his knees. Because that idiot woke up late, again, and didn’t eat his breakfast. After not having dinner last night.

“There are street food trucks outside, let’s go out. I’ll buy you something.”

Seungyeon protests, but Wooseok isn’t listening. He says stuff about ‘paid the tickets’, ‘want to see the view’, ‘drop me you midget’, but Wooseok doesn’t register. He puts Seungyeon’s arm on his shoulders, tightly holding him by his waist, and they go down the stairs – with Seungyeon still grumbling and Wooseok silently supporting him.

Wooseok is overthinking. Can Seungyeon hear his heartbeat? He can feel Seungyeon’s on his wrist. It’s a bit fast, but he can’t decide on the causes looking at the situation. His friend’s complexion is paler than usual, his lips dry from the thirst, and Wooseok curses at himself for choosing to flee the room as soon as possible this morning, when he should’ve been dragging Seungyeon’s ass to eat with him. He tightens his hold on the other’s waist, bringing him closer, and suppresses a smile as Seungyeon lazily leans on him.

He doesn’t let go even once they’re standing in front of the displayed paninis, even after Seungyeon tried to escape multiple times. He reluctantly picks one and Wooseok hands over the money, before nicely patting his hair. Seungyeon slaps his hand away and this time, Wooseok laughs, happy to see reactions to his teasing. If Seungyeon hates one thing, it’s to be taken care of while being sick. The worried looks people send, the long hours they spend watching over him – he hates it. But that’s not Wooseok’s problem. Hate it or not, he’s getting babied.

They hastily return to their group bus, Wooseok sitting by the window – as always – and Seungyeon by his side, nibbling at his first meal of the day.

“Hey, princess.” Wooseok says, attempting to take a charming tone, before instantly gulping as Seungyeon raises his eyebrows at him. He’s not ready for this. His confidence fades away, and he mumbles. “Next time you do this, I’m letting you die there.”

“And you’ll feel guilty for the rest of your life.”

Wooseok clicks his tongue, ending up being the one provoked. “Why would I? It’s your fault for not eating all your meals, like everyone who know they will be climbing all those stairs. Ah, right.”

He takes out his phone, goes to his notes – ‘Eiffel from the social scale’ file – and types: ‘Arc de Triomphe, don’t bring a Seungyeon with you and maybe you’ll enjoy.’ His friend peeks from over his shoulder, and nudges him once he reads. Wooseok shoots him daggers and nudges him back, resulting in Seungyeon screeching, his elbows nowhere as bony as Wooseok’s. The blood rises to his cheekbones, and finally there’s some colour on Seungyeon’s face.

“You should be the one eating.” He whines at a proud Wooseok. “Do you sharpen those or something?”

Wooseok doesn’t reply, and shuts the window’s curtains to lean against the glass – so he could comfortably watch Seungyeon. Seungyeon who halts his chewing, perplexed.

“Why are you looking at me? You want a bite?”

“No, thanks. Can’t I look at you?”

Seungyeon shrugs. “You always look by the window. When I’m far more interesting than the scenery.”

Wooseok internally agrees. His eyes go from Seungyeon’s full cheeks, to the tip of his nose, the way his lips pout as he munches, the few strands of hair slipping away from the hoodie cap.

And his heart melts a bit.

  


***

  


“I hate shrimps, why are they everywhere? What’s wrong with Parisians?”

Seungyeon wipes his hands on his immaculate – not anymore – black shirt. He frowns at the aperitif’s taste in his mouth, his eyes darting from the trash can to Wooseok, as if telepathically questioning him. Wooseok shakes his head and Seungyeon’s shoulder slouch in deception. Coming to this ‘goodbye party’ was the last of Wooseok wishes, but Seungyeon insisted, showing up after an hour in the Jacuzzi with a list of food that will be prepared. Where he got it isn’t something Wooseok wants to know. Anyway, now that they’re here, Seungyeon should assume all the consequences. Including eating shrimps.

Wooseok leaves him for moment, chasing after the tray of champagne flutes. The crowd slows his pace, people randomly standing everywhere in the room, chatting. He finally makes it, and grabs the last one, just as another hand lands on it. He looks up.

“Oh- sorry.” He blurts out.

The man blinks, taking his hand away immediately. His hair is a flamboyant shade of orange and his eyes are wearing winged eyeliner. Very cute.

“You’re Korean?”

Wooseok vigorously nods, belatedly realizing that he did speak in Korean.

The man – more a boy – lets out a ‘oh!’ of exclamation and he turns around. “Hyung, come here! I was right, they’re Korean.”

The ‘hyung’ appears, shyly smiling at Wooseok, and the other slaps his chest. “See, I was right. Where’s my money?”

Wooseok squints his eyes – another bet on him? Talking about bets – Seungyeon arrives at the same time, a plate of banana doughnuts in his hands. He pauses as he sees the two other men, before pushing the plate towards them.

“It’s the last ones.” He explains.

The boy grins. “Thank you. I’m Son Dongju. This is Kim Geonhak.”

Said Kim Geonhak scoffs, his eyebrows quirked. “Hyung. Geonhak hyung.”

“Sure.”

Seungyeon points at Wooseok, who is holding his laughter at the funny couple. “Kim Wooseok. I’m Cho Seungyeon.” He then leans to Geonhak, the latter confusingly frowning. “Wooseok doesn’t use honorifics either. He calls me ‘oppa’ once every month. If I’m lucky.”

Geonhak’s confusion grows before totally dissolving once he gets the joke, when Wooseok hits Seungyeon’s arm with all his strength, mumbling a ‘shut the fuck up!’ He thanks the lightning for being dim, or else his flustered face would’ve been exposed. Dongju giggles, picking up another doughnut and devouring it. Well, at least they were getting comfortable.

“I saw you both Friday, after the first dinner.” Dongju says, even though no one asked him to do so. “So I told Geonhak hyung that we weren’t the only Koreans but he didn’t want to believe me. He said ‘maybe they’re Chinese, a lot come during this time of the year.’”

“I don’t talk like that.”

“No, you go-“ and he lowers his voice about two octaves, “- like this.”

That was not even close to how deep that dude’s voice actually is. Wooseok can’t help but be in awe at each word he lets out – which aren’t a lot. He’d love to have a voice like that. And be a bit taller, like Seungyeon. His face is okay, he doesn’t want to change it.

“You look cute together.” Seungyeon beams, turning to Wooseok to get his approval. “Right, babe?”

Wooseok chokes at the pet name, covering it by dramatically coughing. He will probably never be used to it.

“Yes, they do.” He lets out between two coughs. “It’s too bad we didn’t meet earlier.”

Geonhak bashfully smiles, reaching to scratch his neck. While Dongju rubs his hands to get the powered sugar off, and pushes his chest out.

“Of course we do. We’re a power couple.” He wraps his arms around Geonhak – who suddenly seems as if he wants to head-butt the younger. “I’m in charge of the cuteness, though. Thank me, we’re getting complimented by that really handsome man because of me.”

Geonhak wiggles to get out of his clingy hold as Seungyeon sends a look to Wooseok, meaning ‘I’m the handsome man?’, to which Wooseok answers by pretending to throw up. ‘Rude’ Seungyeon mutters.

“You look cute too.” Dongju speaks again, still refusing to let go of Geonhak. “How did you meet?”

Geonhak yelps. “What?”

“What what?”

“Why are you asking this to people you don’t even know? Isn’t that impolite?”

Dongju gives half a shrug. “I’m just trying to keep this conversation going. Was that rude to ask?”

Wooseok has a glitch. He doesn’t know, is it? It’s not like he has a real story to tell about Seungyeon and his relationship. For his part, it started this very day, around 1a.m. – not the best love tale he’s heard.

“I don’t think it is.” Seungyeon says.

“Ha! Told you. We can start if you want. Ok, I’ll tell you. So I met Geonhak hyung when I was at my twin’s roommate’s bandmate’s best friend’s house-warming party. His name’s Youngjo – you don’t need to know that. Anyway, so I was partying and stuff, and then I get a text from my mom asking me where TheDog was – TheDog is my dog, by the way. She thought it was with me, but it wasn’t, so she thought it was with Dongmyeong, but it wasn’t because he was with me, and TheDog wasn’t with me-“

“I just helped him look for his dog and then he asked Youngjo hyung for my number and kept harassing me for months.” Geonhak interrupts, ignoring the noise of indignation Dongju makes. “And now I’ve been stuck with him for two years.”

Seungyeon’s smile stretches on the entirety of his face, causing Wooseok to smile too at the sight.

“That’s adorable.” He chuckles, and Wooseok acquiesces – yes, Seungyeon is adorable.

“It would’ve more adorable if hyung let me tell the story.” Dongju pouts. A pout that vanishes the second Geonhak leaves a kiss on his cheek. “Anyway, yes. What about you?”

“Oh? Us?” Seungyeon sends a look to Wooseok, who gets caught staring at him, and instantly turns his head to the two others. “It’s pretty simple.”

What is? Their non-existent romance?

Seungyeon is gently observing him and Wooseok can feel his breath quickens. “We met when we moved to our mutual friend’s apartment. I don’t think he stood out to me that much, in the beginning. Just the guy who keeps reminding us to wash our feet every time we get home. I guess I started to feel different about him for no particular reason.” A heavy silence follows, as Wooseok finds it harder and harder to not yield in front of Seungyeon’s genuine and intense gaze. The temperature in the room must’ve exceeded the legal level – is this a gala hall or an oven? “Or maybe for every reason, I don’t know.” He finally breaks their exchange to glimpse at Dongju and Geonhak. “And we just started to date naturally. Not a very interesting story.”

Dongju claps, followed by a slower Geonhak, and he jumps on his feet. “I love it! It’s simple indeed.”

Seungyeon lowers his head, suddenly appearing extremely sheepish and Wooseok wants to slap himself in the face. What Junho said again?

“Water.” Wooseok stutters – out of nowhere – already walking away. “I’ll be back, I need water.”

And he hurries to the buffet without waiting for their answers, searching for a clean cup. Except his mind isn’t set on looking for that cup, and he aimlessly fumbles on the table, knocking over some other cups – full. The liquid spills on the ground, and he avoids to get some on his pants just in time. That obnoxious smell of alcohol fills up the air and he wonders if he’s lucky to not have broken glasses of cocktail – why cups? Parisians are indeed another breed. He scans his surroundings to get his hand on a towel or something that could help him clean the mess. His eyes meet a waitress and she nods at him, mouthing that it’s fine. Wooseok steps away from the table. Nothing is fine, in fact. He still needs that glass of water. At this point, he should just go to the public restroom.

  


At his amazement – like each time he drinks directly from a sink – the water doesn’t taste bad. He stares back at his reflection. Is it the dirty mirror or he simply looks like shit tonight? He adjusts his shirt on his shoulder, smoothing down the cloth, tugs at his bangs, before sighing when he sees no change. Alright, he gives up and goes out.

“Wooseok.”

He pivots to see Seungyeon, his hands in his pocket, supporting himself on the wall. Seungyeon walks to him, stopping only a few inches away. Wooseok focuses on him, instead of focusing on the excitement settling in his entire body. Being in Seungyeon’s presence has been sending unexpected shots of enthusiasm to his system lately.

Seungyeon is talking, “-tired, so I’ll just go. I gave my number to Geonhak, if he asks for yours don’t find it weird. Even if I doubt he will. I’m not gonna sleep right now, just lay down for a bit.”

Wooseok nods, despite the fact that he memorized only a third of what has been said. Seungyeon gets dangerously closer, and that’s when Wooseok sees it. The sparkle that crossed Seungyeon’s eyes when he was about to first kiss him. The exact same – but this time Wooseok is ready. He clenches his fists on his sides, squeezes his eyes shut and raises slightly his chin. His heart rate is going off its limit – that must be Cho Seungyeon’s power.

Only, his lips receive nothing. His forehead does, though. Wooseok blinks open, thunderstruck. That motherfucker is kissing his forehead?

Seungyeon steps back, satisfied, with a huge smile. That Wooseok quickly returns, not wanting to seem too disappointed.

“I’ll go now. Have fun.”

And he disappears in the hall.

Wooseok follows the silhouette until it’s not in his sight line anymore, and he returns to the gala hall. Alone, once again. Seungyeon is alone too, actually – but does he feel as lonely as him?

Dongju jumps at him as he sees him, grabbing his wrist to lead him to the centre, where couples are dancing. Wooseok quietly lets him do so, giggling as Geonhak sends him a sympathetic look when they join him. He gently peels Dongju’s fingers off Woseok, ignoring the younger’s complains.

“Where did Seungyeon hyung go?” Dongju asks, having to practically yell to be heard. “He seemed tired.”

Wooseok nods. “He wasn’t feeling well this morning. It’s the best for him.”

Dongju lets out a silent ‘ah’, sending a bubbling smile to Wooseok, as to cheer him up. It works a bit.

“You’d like to dance with me? Geonhak hyung doesn’t want to.”

“You didn’t even ask me!” Geonhak exclaims, his jaw comically dropping. “Ah, forget it, don’t ask now. It’s too late.”

“See?”

Wooseok smiles again, not very honest, tough. He doesn’t feel like dancing. But he accepts Dongju’s invitation, thinking it’s better than standing there, doing nothing. They dance for a while, with Dongju striking the most embarrassing poses ever – Wooseok gets why Geonhak acts as if he doesn’t know him – and Wooseok imitating him. At one point they start whirling, completely not listening to the beat, and they look very drunk. They’re perfectly sober. No one needs to know that. Wooseok thinks of that flute of champagne he never got the chance to get, but Dongju’s ridiculous moonwalk makes the thought go away. They can’t get expelled for acting stupid, right? Wooseok judges they can’t, after dancing for a good twenty minutes. His feet are starting hurt, his shirt soaked in sweat. But he doesn’t stop, feeling that staying still will make him cry, for some reason. A reason he figures when his vision goes blurry, after what must be his hundredth ballerina spin.

He wants to see Seungyeon. His face, he needs to see Seungyeon’s face.

Wooseok drops on the ground, too light-headed to keep up. How do people dance for entire nights? He feels like dying after less than an hour.

“Hyung.” Dongju kneels in front of him. “Are you okay?”

Wooseok answers, without thinking, panting. “I want to see Seungyeon.”

Dongju gets up, extending his arm to help him out. “Well, go then.”

Wooseok energetically nods, accepting his second offer tonight. He heads to the exit, not forgetting to wave at Geonhak, before running outside.

  


  


Their room’s door flies open, startling Seungyeon who raises immediately from the bed. He’s changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt, so ample, Wooseok can see his whole back tattoo. That’s not something he should focus on right now. He closes after him, the hand still on the doorknob, and tries to catch his breath, after climbing six floors. Because the elevator was too slow – to him.

“Are you okay?” Seungyeon asks, worry on his features. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Wooseok exhales, choosing to not honestly answer. “I just felt... tired.” He walks up to the bed, and sits near Seungyeon, their shoulders rubbing. “What are you watching?”

His computer is in his hands, paused on the video taken early this afternoon. Wooseok sees his face on the screen, impressed on how different it looks from his reflection.

Seungyeon shrugs. “Porn.”

Wooseok bursts into a laughter, almost falling over the bed. “I didn’t know I starred in one. Am I good?”

“Meh.” He smiles as Wooseok finally calms down, wiping some tears off his cheeks. “Why is your shirt like that?”

“Ah. I was dancing. You should’ve seen my moves. It was sick.”

“Just like you if you don’t go change.”

Wooseok gets up to enter the bathroom. “Yes. Yes.”

He puts his pyjamas on after a short shower – those assorted ones, but the summer version, so he doesn’t look weird. Or expensive, because he’s not. Sometimes he wonders if he’s not an old man trapped on this young body. He ruffles his hair, puts some lip balm on and frantically rubs the dark bags under his eyes – pointlessly, it’s not like they’re going away. His pulse isn’t faster than usual, for the first time since yesterday’s lunch. His heart is evenly thumping and he takes it as a positive sign. He can do this.

He steps out.

“Seungyeon.” The latter peers up, curiously lifting his eyebrows. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“I’m serious.”

“Alright, alright. Sure.”

Wooseok approaches him, sitting back on the same spot, not too far and not too close. He takes a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

“Did you mean what you told Geonhak and Dongju? About us?”

Seungyeon’s eyes widen, almost indiscernible if Wooseok wasn’t scrutinizing him. He was expecting a bigger reaction, but turns out this way is better.

“Which part?”

“The part where you like me.”

“Ah, that.” Seungyeon chuckles, folding his hands together on his lap. “Yeah, I meant it.” The tension that build up in Wooseok’s throat drops to his stomach. He stiffens. “I thought it was obvious.”

“How?” Wooseok squeals, feeling like everyone keeps noticing things he misses out all the time. He _is_ dense.

“I don’t know. I literally kissed you yesterday.”

Wooseok slaps his hands on his thighs. “That doesn’t mean anything! Yohan did too yet he doesn’t like me!”

Seungyeon raises an eyebrow. “He did? Before me? That asshole-“

“-It doesn’t matter. Weren’t you hangover anyway? Maybe you were not aware, I don’t know!”

“No, I wasn’t. Hangover is different than drunk- I never kissed you drunk, right?”

Wooseok sighs. “Not really. That’s not the point here, since when do you like me?”

He shouldn’t rush things, but the absurdity of his oblivious self is making him lose his temper. Is he blind or Seungyeon really doesn’t know how to convey his feelings?

“September 2nd, last year.” Seungyeon says, raising his pointer finger as if he’s reciting a lesson. “When you made me skip all my shootings to try your new recipes on me. I think I was in love with you before but that’s when I realized. Because I didn’t mind tasting your awful meals if it meant spending the whole day just with you.”

Wooseok’s mouth opens wide. He should shut it, his heart risks to jump out of it.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s okay, your cooking skills got bet-“

“-For being so clueless. I like you too.” His cheeks are on fire, but he doesn’t care. “Even more than that. A lot more.”

Seungyeon beams. “I know.” He shuts the computer and puts it down on the floor, before turning back to Wooseok, with a smile even bigger. “Can I kiss you, now?”

Wooseok is tempted to reply with a flat ‘no’, but that would frustrate him more than Seungyeon.

“You didn’t ask yesterday.”

“Because I mean, for real. Can I kiss you, for real?”

Wooseok nods, his heartbeat completely losing its mind as Seungyeon cups his face, bringing him closer. His lips are soft, as he pictured it, when they delicately embrace his, with such carefulness, Wooseok feels his legs give up on him. And he’s sitting. He leans closer, running his hands on Seungyeon’s arms until they’re wrapped around his neck, wanting to get more of the other’s warmth. Seungyeon smiles as he kisses him, breaking it for a second to dive on the bed, dragging Wooseok with him, who immediately cages him by throwing his leg over his hip once they’re laying. They get back to kissing but this time with more intimacy, and Wooseok can’t even form a proper thought, much more obsessed by how his body feels like melting against Seungyeon. There’s not an inch of space left between them but none is complaining – on the contrary, trying to reduce it to its maximum.

After a while, Wooseok senses something isn’t right. He needs to breathe. He’s about to choke. He grudgingly pulls back and props himself on his elbow, not too far because of Seungyeon’s hands still gripping his shoulders. He realizes how heated this whole thing was turning, and how he can’t handle if it goes out of control. Not tonight, at least.

“Come back, come back.” Seungyeon whines, his fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of Wooseok’s top. “Just a last one. Then I leave you alone.”

“No, don’t leave me alone.”

He leaves a light kiss on his lips, utter opposite to the borderline obscene previous ones. Seungyeon giggles, finally letting go of Wooseok, and rubs his face against the pillow, yawning. Wooseok feels his heart tightens at his friend- boyfriend?

“Are we dating now?” Wooseok hears himself ask, surprised at his own boldness. “I mean-“

“Yes we are.” Seungyeon pats at the pillow next to his. “And now you have to sleep with me. Despite my cold feet and my snoring. In exchange you get to tap that.” And he points at his ass.

Wooseok rolls his eyes – what a privilege.

“You don’t really snore, actually. You breathe loud, that’s it.” He snuggles under the blanket, waiting for Seungyeon to do the same, and turns off the bedside lamp. “Don’t cuddle me, I’ll get too hot.”

Seungyeon doesn’t listen, his arms wrapped around Wooseok’s waist the instant the room turns dark.

“I have that effect on people. Also, don’t tell me how to live my life.”

Wooseok scoffs, but doesn’t protest. It’s fine, if he sweats on Seungyeon then he can say that he warned him.

His phone rings, after a few minutes of silence, and he shifts to look at the time. It’s past midnight. Only one person would call him right now. He grabs the phone.

“Who is it?” Seungyeon lazily asks.

Wooseok picks up. He smiles at the familiar voice.

“Hyung?”

“Hi, Junho.”

“Hi!” Junho sings, his greeting even reaching Seungyeon, who softly chuckles. “How are you? Having fun as you should?”

Wooseok nods. “Yes. Actually, I have good news for you.”

“Really? What is it?”

Wooseok glances at Seungyeon as he’s silently falling asleep. The single light coming from the streets is illuminating half of his face, the other half only shadows. But it’s enough to mesmerize Wooseok.

“You can tell Yohan that he’s a loser.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi again  
> if you're here it probably means you read it all so thank you for your time  
> english isnt my first language so im sorry for the mistakes but ill get better at hopefully  
> ok ill stop here, thank you again and dont get sick pls


End file.
